Of Tummy Aches and Fevers
by NCISBALTOFAN
Summary: You all know what it's like when a little kid's sick right? England knows too... Sick!fic America and England
1. Chapter 1

TWOSHOT

Arthur watched as little Alfred played around on the playground with Matthew. Francis called his brother over and told him they had to leave. Arthur saw them both on their way. He looked over at Alfred who now sat on a swing and looked downward. Arthur cocked his eyebrows in confusion and walked over to Alfred.

"Hey America," he asked. "Are you alright?"

Alfred didn't answer.

"America," Arthur bent down next to his little brother. "I asked you a question?"

"I," Alfred replied. "I don't feel good England."

"What hurts?" Arthur asked and ruffled the boy's hair.

"My tummy," Alfred clutched his stomach. "And my throat a little."

Arthur sighed and picked up Alfred off of the swing.

"I'm taking you home." Arthur rubbed the boy's back and walked them both out of the park.

Hetalia – Hetalia – Hetalia – Hetalia – Hetalia

Arthur threw the door open at his house and sat Alfred down on the couch. He grabbed a blanket from the adjacent chair and set it over the child. He ruffled his hair again and felt his forehead.

"You do feel quite warm," Arthur sighed. "Do you think you're going to be sick?"

"I don't know…" Alfred clutched his stomach.

"I'll be right back." Arthur smiled.

Arthur came back moments later with a bowl and some crackers.

"If you're going to be sick just tell me," Arthur said to him. "In the meantime eat a few of these; they might help calm your stomach."

Alfred clutched his stomach again and this time he did puke…all over the front of Arthur.

Arthur jumped back a little shocked and looked over a crying Alfred.

"I'm," Alfred cried. "I'm sorry, I wanted to tell you but it all happened so fast…"

Arthur stood up and walked into his bedroom, taking off his soiled shirt and placing it into the laundry basket. He pulled a British Flag skin tight t-shirt onto his body and walked back to his living room to where Alfred sat.

Arthur smiled at the cowering child.

"I'm sorry England…" Alfred lay back down as Arthur sat down next to him.

"Sssh its ok love," Arthur rubbed Alfred's back in circles and pulled the blanket up over him. "No one can help it when they get sick, I remember many a time when I puked down the front of Scotland, and did he ever get mad…no."

Alfred smiled and it was ruined by a cough.

Arthur felt his forehead again.

"You feel warmer than before," Arthur sighed. "Time for some medicine."

"No…" Alfred protested, but Arthur was already off.

Hetalia – Hetalia – Hetalia – Hetalia – Hetalia

Arthur came back yet again with a washcloth, he wet it in the kitchen sink with cold water and placed it onto Alfred's burning forehead.

"There," Arthur poured some medicine into a spoon. "That should do it, now take this child."

"Blergh," Alfred gagged. "Do I have to?"

"If you want to get better than yes." Arthur smiled and plunged the spoon into Alfred's mouth.

Alfred gagged once but then groaned as his tired achy body gave up the fight.

Arthur checked the time. It was about nine pm. That meant they had played at the park longer than he had planned. Arthur picked up Alfred in one large scoop and laid him on his shoulder. Alfred leaned his head close to Arthur's neck and hair, what a comforting feeling that was.

Arthur carried Alfred all the way to Alfred's room where he set him down in his bed.

Alfred whimpered once and then turned to his side. Arthur rubbed his back again and then stood to leave.

"You need anything?" Arthur asked.

"Something to drink…" Alfred whimpered.

Arthur left and returned moments later with a half full glass of milk. Alfred happily drank most of it and then handed the glass to Arthur.

"If you need anything at all in the night," Arthur dimmed the lights. "You don't hesitate to wake me, got it?"

"Yes…" Alfred smiled weakly.

Arthur shut the door so it cracked ever so slightly so Alfred could still see the doorway.

Hetalia – Hetalia – Hetalia – Hetalia – Hetalia

Arthur whimpered in his sleep. He was sweating and having a nightmare.

He could feel the heat and aches rushing through his body. His throat was becoming rather scratchy as well and his stomach lurched.

He awoke to a feeling of discomfort only the beginnings of a fever could bring…

He had caught whatever Alfred had.

"It's because he vomited on me…" Arthur said to himself as he felt his own forehead which was burning up.

Arthur's door creaked open ever so slightly and he watched as Alfred plodded over to the side of his bed and tugged at the blankets a little.

"Yes America," Arthur smiled as best he could. "What do you need?"

"I couldn't sleep because my tummy hurt," Alfred said. "So I was wondering if I could sleep with you tonight."

"That's fine love," Arthur pulled the blankets back. "I seem to have caught whatever you have as well…"

Alfred climbed in next to Arthur who was now sitting up.

"England," Alfred asked. "Are you sick too, are you gonna be sick?"

"My stomach's a little queasy," Arthur admitted. "But…I'll be fine, yes America I'm sick too."

Arthur groaned once unintentionally.

Alfred then reached out his little hand and placed it on Arthur's forehead.

"America," Arthur asked. "What are you doing?"

"Doing what you did for me," Alfred said matter of factly. "You put your hand on my forehead and told me I had something called a fever…I was doing the same for you."

Arthur smiled at Alfred's logic.

"Well yes love," he replied. "I do have a fever…it happens when one gets sick."

"Do you need medicine like me," Alfred asked. "To fight off those nasty germs!"

"I'll be ok for tonight," Arthur smiled. "I have you…"

Arthur pressed his nose to Alfred's and Eskimo kissed him.

"And you're the best medicine there is." Arthur smiled.

Alfred and Arthur both giggled slightly which for both of them turned into a coughing fit.

"I think we'd best go to bed," Arthur lay down and Alfred pressed up against him. "We need every ounce of strength tomorrow."

"Yeah…" Alfred snuggled his head into Arthur's hair.

"Goodnight America." Arthur kissed Alfred's cheek.

"Goodnight England," America kissed his cheek too. "I hope you get better."

"I will," Arthur almost closed his eyes. "Now you need to go to sleep."

Alfred didn't reply. He was fast asleep. Arthur smiled once and pressed his fever induced forehead against Alfred's and then silently fell asleep.

**GAWD SO MUCH FLUFF! O.O**

**I THINK IM GUNNA DIE OF FLUFF OVERLOAD ONE OF THESE DAYS! ;_;**


	2. Chapter 2

TWOSHOT PT. 2

_Many years later…_

Nineteen year old Alfred F. Jones stared out the window at the breeze blowing on the trees. Arthur Kirkland sat on the couch with a blanket wrapped up around him and a cup of tea in his shaky hands.

Alfred broke his own trance and walked over to Arthur, placed a hand on the man's forehead and sighed.

"Your fever hasn't gone down at all," Alfred sighed. "I gave you enough medicine too…"

"Sometimes it just takes a long time," Arthur groaned as he moved. "Besides it's been three days since you got here, at least it's better than it was."

That, Alfred did have to admit was true…

Alfred sneezed into his jacket then excused himself. He grabbed the hanky he always kept in his bomber jacket and blew his nose.

"You alright America?" Arthur asked.

"Yeah," Alfred sniffed. "I'll be fine."

"Are you sure," Arthur asked again. "You look a little pale, are you sure you're not catching whatever I've got?"

"I don't know," Alfred sneezed again, followed by a cough. "I highly doubt it though, heroes don't get sick."

"This one used to." Arthur pointed at Alfred.

"Yeah but that was before I was a hero." Alfred protested and cleared his throat.

"Didn't you say that heroes aren't made, they're born?" Arthur asked.

"Damn you." Alfred sneezed again.

Arthur stood up and walked over to Alfred, who tried to walk away from him and then failed before Arthur could place a careful hand on Alfred's forehead.

"You feel warm," Arthur said, feeling Alfred's cheeks as well. "Are you sure you're not sick?"

"I told you… no," Alfred coughed, which wasn't helping his cause. "Now leave me alone."

"Alfred F Jones," Arthur felt weird using his human name. "If you are ill you just need to tell me, I'll take care of you just as I have in the past, you being nineteen years old is not any different then you being six when you're sick you got it?"

Alfred wanted to argue or disagree with Arthur but he knew he was wrong.

"Ok fine," Alfred sighed. "I did feel a little sick to my stomach last night, it's not settled right now, but I figured it would stop eventually."

"Anything else you want to tell me?" Arthur asked.

"My throat it's just almost raw," Alfred swallowed for dramatic effect. "And my head's been hurting since yesterday too."

"Sounds like the flu," Arthur replied, standing up and throwing his blanket at Alfred. "Here take my blanket and lay down on the couch, I'll get another one."

Alfred sighed and did as he was told.

Arthur came back to him on the couch, under a blanket.

"Rid yourself of that damn jacket," Arthur pulled it off of him. "It's not helping whatever fever you've got."

"But…" Alfred protested, but then gave up the fight; his body was too achy to try to fight back.

Arthur sat down next to him and pulled the blanket up over his shoulders and then felt his forehead again.

"Tell me if you're going to be sick," Arthur stated. "I'm going to rest on the other couch; I don't need to any sicker either."

Arthur grabbed the remote on the coffee table and sat down on the other couch adjacent from Alfred.

"You wanna watch anything in particular?" Arthur asked.

"No…" Alfred said.

"You wanna go to sleep don't you?" Arthur half smiled.

"Yes…" Alfred sighed.

"Then do so," Arthur smiled. "I'm going to read in my bedroom for a little while."

Alfred was about to reply, but then his eyes shut. He shifted slightly and then fell into a deep sleep. Arthur smiled at his younger brother and then walked to his room and into that bed.

Hetalia – Hetalia – Hetalia – Hetalia – Hetalia – Hetalia

Arthur had fallen asleep with his book on his chest and awoke to the sound of his door creaking open.

Alfred stood in the doorway.

"Oh America," Arthur stretched once. "What do you need?"

"Oh," Alfred said. "Never mind it was a stupid idea anyways."

"Come now," Arthur said. "No ideas are stupid; now tell me what do you want?"

"Can I," Alfred gulped. "Can I sleep with you tonight, like we used to when I was sick?"

Arthur was about to protest but then stopped himself, all he saw before him was his sick younger brother who longed to be held, not a nineteen year old boy who acted a little immature for his age.

"Sure you can." Arthur smiled.

Alfred nodded once and walked over to Arthur's bed. Arthur pulled up the covers on the opposite side of his bed and Alfred slipped himself in. Alfred scooted closer to Arthur, who wrapped his arm around the sick boy.

"Thanks." Alfred said.

"You're welcome." Arthur replied.

Alfred snuggled his head into Arthur's chest and Arthur sighed as he rubbed Alfred's back.

"I remember the last time we did this," Alfred spoke up. "When I felt your forehead and you told me to go to sleep."

"Yes," Arthur laughed slightly. "I remember."

"I miss that." Alfred closed his eyes.

"I do too…" Arthur sighed and leaned his head into Alfred's closing his eyes as well and slowly following his bedmate he fell asleep.

**RNR Pleez :P**


End file.
